


The 'Little More' Days

by sparxwrites



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Sex, Beating, Dom/sub, M/M, Praise Kink, Rimming, Sabriel - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-16
Updated: 2013-08-16
Packaged: 2017-12-23 07:30:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/923592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparxwrites/pseuds/sparxwrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Stay still," orders Sam, pushing Gabriel onto his back on the bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The 'Little More' Days

The archangel’s naked, body flushed and sweat-damp from the tips of his toes to the top of his head, the ass and thighs even more so. There’s welts across them, along with the bright red skin, tiny pinpricks of blood running along some of the deeper ones, and Sam knows there’ll be some beautiful bruises there tomorrow, in the shape of his hand and the crop he’d used afterwards.

Sometimes Gabriel falls into line relatively easily. Sometimes, he needs a little more encouragement. Today is one of the ‘little more’ days.

But, he’s finally been good, finally relaxed and let go and fallen easy and gentle into Sam’s arms, shivering and whimpering and smiling that almost beatific smile he gets when Sam breaks him,  _properly_  breaks him. And, after seeing Gabriel like that, how can Sam resist rewarding him?

He smooths his hands over the inside of Gabriel’s thighs, relishing the way the overheated skin twitches beneath his hands, a small, shocked noise dragged involuntarily from Gabriel’s throat. The archangel’s sprawled out across the covers, legs having slid open easily at the slightest touch of Sam’s hand, arms held above his head with wrists together almost automatically. His eyes are wide, mouth open a little to allow for his sharp, uneven gasps for air, and he’s  _beautiful_.

"There, there," murmurs Sam, stroking his hands down Gabriel’s thighs again until the archangel stops twitching at every touch. "It’s okay. Shh. You’ve been so good for me, Gabriel, haven’t you? Hmm?"  
"Y-yes, Sam, yes." The words are gasped, fractured, but Sam doesn’t care. As long as they’re there, that’s the good thing."

Carefully, Sam slips his hands under Gabriel’s knees, hitching them up until the archangel is bent near-double, ass and groin displayed perfectly in front of him without the tangle of limbs to get in his way. “Hold them there,” he orders quietly, waiting until Gabriel slides his own shaking hands under the place where calf meets thigh to hold his legs up before letting go.

He runs a hand over Gabriel’s ass, tracing some of the deeper welts with a gentle thumb. They’ll need disinfecting, most likely, just to be sure, and bruise cream. Even with that, they’ll ache for days.

Good.

"Lookin’ pretty, sweetheart," drawls Sam easily, smiling as Gabriel shivers at the words, face flushing red - not that it’s visible from where Sam’s standing. "I love you like this, you know? So gorgeous." He’s almost reverent as he places his palms gently over Gabriel’s ass, heat seeping into his palms from the abused skin, and gently spreads him open.

Gabriel keens softly at the touch, at knowing Sam’s looking at him, scrutinising him, the cold of the room against his heated skin making his hole twitch and clench under Sam’s gaze. Knowing Sam’s looking at him - knowing Sam  _wants_ him, is doing the visual equivalent of licking his lips - is almost hotter than when Sam touches him. The knowledge that Sam’s probably getting off on how marked-up he is, how obedient he’s being, brings a swell of heat and pleasure to curl in his gut, fingers tightening briefly where he’s still holding his legs up. It’s making the whip marks throb and tear, small trickles of fresh blood running down his thighs, making his muscles ache, but it’s worth it. It’s all worth it.

He’d do anything to make Sam happy.

"So good," murmurs Sam, before leaning in and kneeling on the bed, a little way back from Gabriel, so that when he bends over his head will be between the archangel’s thighs. Gabriel’s already hard, has been at one level of arousal or another every since the first touch of the flogger on his ass, but it still makes Sam pleased that he can wind Gabriel up this much with a few light touches and some words.

With a pleased sigh, he leans in, bracing his fingers on the archangel’s hips and chasing the small trails of blood with his mouth, licking them up and laving his tongue across the cuts they fell from until the bleeding slows and begins to clot. The taste of it, sharp and bitter-iron, reminds him briefly of Ruby, but he pushes that thought from his mind. This is now, this is  _after_ , and this is an archangel he’s got his mouth on, not a demon. Not someone trying to trick him, use him, guide him - just someone looking for the love and physical contact they’ve been denied for far too long.

It takes a while, maybe five minutes, maybe ten - Sam loses time when he focuses on things, the drag of Gabriel’s skin under his rough tongue driving everything else from his mind - but finally the archangel’s clean, shivering in small twitches and making soft, punched-out noises of need. It’s beautiful, wonderful, and Sam can’t help but think how far they’ve come from when this all started, from their first, clumsy attempts at playing with power dynamics. How far they’ve just  _clicked_  with each other, how well they know every inch of each other now and yet still keep discovering more.

"Sam- Sam, please-" mumbles Gabriel, shivering, hips rocking up a little into nothing, and he knows he’s supposed to wait and be patient, but waiting’s hard, and he’s hard and aching and needs it so badly he could scream.

He probably will by the time Sam’s had his way with him.

"Shh, shh, it’s okay," murmurs Sam, running a finger down the newly-cleaned skin, bumping over welts and bruises until it slips into the cleft of Gabriel’s ass, finds his tightly clenched hole and circles it gently. "I’m going to look after you, shh."

He knows Gabriel’s expecting cold-slick lube any moment now, a finger, then two, then three working their way inside him, and then Sam’s cock, but… Sam’s got something a little different lined up for today. Something new that he wants to try.

When Gabriel feels the first, careful swipe of a tongue across his hole, he almost flinches, holds himself still by force of will alone. His breathing speeds up, though, catches in his chest, and he manages a strangled, “…Sam?” before the tongue’s back, flat of it dragging over sensitive skin, swollen a little from his spanking earlier, and his whole body jolts towards Sam’s mouth without his say so.

"Sorry sorry sorry, ah fuck," he babbles, eyes nearly rolling up into his head as Sam demonstrates his understanding and forgiveness by curling the sides of his tongue up and probing at Gabriel’s hole, teasing the tight ring of muscle until it relaxes enough to let him press his tongue inside, slowly, slowly.

Gabriel actually cries out at that, shuddering with the effort of not letting go of his legs and just grinding himself against Sam’s face until he comes, because  _fuck_  that feels good - not even necessarily the licking itself, although that’s certainly damn amazing, but the knowledge that this is  _Sam_ , this is Sam’s mouth, knowing how fucking filthy what Sam’s doing is. Knowing that Sam’s doing this for him.

It only takes another couple of minutes, full of the wet, lapping sounds of Sam’s mouth on Gabriel’s hole, sucking and licking and pushing spit into the swollen, red pucker of it, before Gabriel’s sobbing quietly, squirming on the bed and gasping out Sam’s name mixed with a multitude of expletives. Sam hums quietly in response, and Gabriel lets out something that’s almost a wail, every nerve in his skin of fire, his entire attention focused on the feel of Sam’s tongue dragging across his skin and pushing inside of him.

When, a few minutes later, Sam lets go of his hip with one hand to dig his nails into one of the deeper welts, Gabriel comes with a scream, shooting across his own stomach as his thighs tremble and his back arches, shuddering his way through his orgasm.

Sam licks him through it, smiling a little, before sitting up and wiping his mouth absently. “Well done,” he says gently. “I told you that good boys get rewards.”

Gabriel whimpers out something that might be an agreement, coherence not helped when Sam swipes a thumb through the white mess on the curve of his stomach and rubs it against his loose, open hole, slipping the tip of his thumb in before pulling it out again, watching Gabriel’s own come leak slowly out of him. He’s oversensitive, fucked-out and gasping, but he can’t say he’s surprised or unhappy when he feels the fat push of Sam’s cock against his hole, the head slipping in with a wet  _pop_  before the rest follows, carefully. Gabriel might be able to take this with minimal prep, considering he’s an archangel, but that doesn’t mean Sam wants to tear anything.

"Fuck," he mumbles, shifting back himself and dragging Gabriel back by his hips so he can stand at the foot of the bed, Gabriel lying on it, and still be buried up to the hilt in the archangel’s body. "Feels so good, being in you when you’ve just come, you know that?" Sam’s always full of praise for Gabriel, for Gabriel’s body, something that confuses and astounds the archangel in equal measure. "You can let go of your legs," he adds, and Gabriel lets them drop open onto the bed with a grateful whimper, orgasm-loose and lazy as Sam begins fucking into him at a slow, steady pace.

He doesn’t get hard again. He probably could, if he really wanted to - refractory periods are something he’s learned, not something he has - but he doesn’t. There’s something  _good_  about this, sacred, almost, about offering his body up to Sam without getting any pleasure back in return. Letting Sam use him as little more than a toy, a means to reach orgasm rather than a partner he should be lavishing equal affection on, feels  _pure_ , in some strange, unexplainable way. Not that Gabriel doesn’t like orgasms, because hell, they’re one of the best things in his Father’s creation; but he also likes the absence of them sometimes.

It doesn’t take Sam long, the pair of them having been so close to the edge when they started all of this that it takes them nearly nothing to tip over it. In contrast to Gabriel, Sam comes silently, a soft grunt and his hands tightening where they’re closed around Gabriel’s hips - Gabriel thinks of the handprint bruises he’ll have there later, purple and blue, and sighs happily as the warmth of Sam’s come spreads inside him.

For a moment, they’re still, Sam stood at the end of the bed with his cock softening inside Gabriel, Gabriel sprawled out and smiling dazedly on the mess they’ve made of the bed - and then Sam laughs quietly, reaching up to stroke Gabriel’s hair out of his face.

"Look at the mess I’ve made of you," he says gently, affection in every syllable as he works an arm under Gabriel’s shoulders and knees, mindful of the bruises when Gabriel hisses out a soft, half-there noise of warning. The pain’s intensifying now the endorphins and adrenaline are wearing off a little, and although it’s nothing he’s not had before, it still hurts. "C’mon. Shower time for you."

Gabriel pouts in Sam’s arms, head fallen back and resting on the human’s shoulder a little. “Shower? Can’t we have a bath?”  
"Who’s in charge here?" says Sam, mock-serious, shaking his head.  
"Me," says Gabriel cheerfully, if a little sleepily. "And I like bubbles."  
Sam sighs, shakes his head some more, and grins. “Fine, fine. We can have bubbles. But You’ve got to agree to snapping up a bigger tub, because I’m not letting you in there on your own.” The last time they had a bath after a session, Gabriel fell asleep - and never mind that he didn’t even need to breathe, was only under the water for half a second, it had scared Sam witless.

"Will you wash my hair if I do?" asks Gabriel, and he knows he sounds almost pitifully hopeful, like a whiny small child, but he can’t bring himself to care. "And bubbles?"  
"Yes, yes," says Sam quietly, and although there’s exasperation in his tone, there’s also love - so much love, it terrifies Gabriel sometimes, because he’s got no idea how on earth he’s supposed to live up to that, earn it. "Hair washing and bubbles. Deal."  
"S’a good deal," mumbles Gabriel, kissing Sam’s shoulder gently, and letting his eyes fall shut. He’s in Sam’s arms, now, Sam will keep him safe.

"Yes," says Sam, a gentle smile on his face as he settles Gabriel down on the toilet seat and runs a hand through his hair. "Yes, it is."

**Author's Note:**

> I could talk about Gabriel and his complicated relationship to orgasms all day, but I won't. I'll save that for another fic.


End file.
